111111
by OwlinAMinor
Summary: It's Poland's birthday and International Lose-the-Game day. Like, totally fabulous, right?  Pointless PolLiet fluff, of course.


**11.11.11**

**RATING: T**

**PAIRING: PolLiet**

**GENRE: Humor & Romance**

**DESCRIPTION: ****It's Poland's birthday and International Lose-the-Game day. Like, totally fabulous, right?**

**LENGTH: Drabble thing.**

**POV: 3rd ****person.**

**IT'S A BIRD. IT'S A PLANE. WAIT, NO, IT'S A FLYING NEON ORANGE JELLYFISH. ACTUALLY, I LIED, IT'S A DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia. Or any of the characters in it. Or the Game. Are we clear? Good. And if we aren't clear, you are an dimwit and do not have the right to be reading this.**

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><p>"TOOOOOORRRISSSSS!"<p>

The Lithuanian man turned at the sound of his name just in time to be tackled by a speeding blur of pink. The blur effectively knocked into his back so hard that both of them were thrown off the path on which Toris had been walking and into a large pile of leaves off to one side of it.

Toris, surprisingly less frightened than someone in his current situation should have been (though, considering he found himself in aforementioned situation or something relatively similar at least once a week, it wasn't _that_ surprising), surveyed the object responsible for his now-aching backside, also known as his boyfriend, Feliks. The Pole, dressed in a bright pink cardigan and pink-and-magenta-plaid miniskirt with his chin-length blond hair pulled back with a matching pink ribbon, looked every inch a typical college-age girl – except for the fact that he was actually a member of the male persuasion. He'd decided to become a full-time cross dresser after high school, when his open homosexuality earned him several lifetimes' worth of unpleasant memories. Now, burying his face in Toris' jacket and complaining about how the leaves were dirtying his shirt, nobody would've guessed that he was truly a courageous individual willing to stand up for anyone and anything as long as it had good fashion sense and an appreciation for the color pink.

"Feliks, why don't you just get up, if the leaves bother you that much?" the Lithuanian asked.

"Like, NO!" Feliks gasped, horrified. "If I did that I'd, like, totally be found and caught by Ivan! And he's, like, totally mean and scary! I don't want to, like, die! I'm, like, too totally fabulous to die!"

"Why was Ivan chasing you?"

"He said he wanted to, like, give me my birthday present or something! But I just _know_ that's, like, code for: 'I'm, like, totally going to burn all of your miniskirts.'"

Toris sighed. "Of course."

Then again, Feliks might have been telling the truth. One never could tell with Russians.

"Hey, what did _you_, like, get me for my birthday?" Feliks inquired, cheered up by the prospect of presents.

"It's a secret," his boyfriend answered.

"Can I have, like, a hint?"

"No."

"Like, please?"

"No."

"Like, pleeeeaaaase?"

Oh, God. He was making the puppy-dog eyes. Toris was _never_ able to resist the puppy-dog eyes.

"Okay, fine. I'll tell you. It's a necklace with a pink heart locket on it."

"Tor-is, you were supposed to, like, give me a hint, not, like, totally ruin it!" Feliks whined, pouting. "That's, like, totally cute, though. I, like, love it. You're, like, the best boyfriend, like, _ever_," he added, with a glance at Toris' hurt expression.

The Lithuanian smiled slightly, wonderingly, as if thinking, _What good deeds did I ever do to deserve someone as amazing as this?_ and Feliks felt his breath catch.

"I'm glad you like it," Toris said softly.

They probably would've kissed if Alfred hadn't run by just then, yelling something about how England looked dead sexy in a miniskirt.

Instead, they awkwardly looked in opposite directions – Feliks up to the sky, Toris down at his watch. Toris made his shocked face, which Feliks would have found amusing if he hadn't been so concerned.

"Like, what is it?"

"I'm late for my next class!"

The Polish transvestite quickly hopped to his feet like a true unceasingly energetic mass of perky-ness, then grabbed the Lithuanian's hands, pulled him up into his chest, and gave him a peck on the lips.

"I'm, like, totally sorry," Feliks said.

Toris leaned in for a proper kiss, then replied, "It's okay; I can never stay mad at you for long. Besides, I already know how I'll get back at you for making me late."

"Like, really? How?"

"Did you know that, besides being your birthday, today is International Lose-the-Game Day?"

"LIKE, NO! YOU'RE, LIKE, TOTALLY EVIL! I WAS ON, LIKE, A WINNING STREAK FOR, LIKE, SO LONG! I MEAN, OKAY, IT WAS, LIKE, A WEEK, BUT A WEEK IS, LIKE, A REALLY LONG TIME!"

Feliks' bright red angry ranting face was _so utterly adorable_ that Toris couldn't help bursting out in rare but beautiful laughter.

"I love you, Feliks."

"What? Oh. Love you, too, Toris. Even if you're, like, totally evil sometimes."

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><p><strong>I hope you enjoyed reading the pointless PolLiet fluff as much as I enjoyed writing it. :3<strong>

**(By the way, this is one of the two ways I celebrated International Lose-the-Game day. The other was putting a sign on my locker that proclaimed: "THE GAME" in large, bold, black letters. It was, unfortunately, taken down by the end of the day for reasons unknown to me. D: )**

**(I also made a wish at 11:11:11am. :D)**

**Reviews are loved.**


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